


the memory is in the magic

by quietlyintoemptyspaces



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Before Nemeton, Flash Fic, Flashbacks, Gen, Magic, Magic!Stiles, Memory, Nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietlyintoemptyspaces/pseuds/quietlyintoemptyspaces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles remembers with electricity running through his veins and Gerard Argent’s fists making an example out of him.</p>
<p>He remembers his mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the memory is in the magic

**Author's Note:**

> I love magic!stiles. 
> 
> This is set before season 3. I actually wrote this before i saw last episode of season 2. 
> 
> ...i'm just finally posting...

Stiles remembers with electricity running through his veins and Gerard Argent’s fists making an example out of him.

He remembers his mother.

*

She’s smiling at him. Her hair is long and wild in the wind, whipping towards him with her skirt that always reminds him of something from the seventies; her feet are bare, toes digging into the ground. They’re standing in the middle of the woods, like they so often do, but this time it feels different.

It should be weird, to have his mother taking him into the woods while his father sits at home waiting for them, but it’s not. It’s always been like this. Just him and his mom. He takes the hand stretched out to him and stands beside her, their shoes forgotten behind them, and listens to her speak.

“There’s energy in this place. In every place,” she says, eyes closed and head tilted back. Stiles watches her and feels the wind curl around them. “I am connected to it, in the same way you will be one day. I don’t know when, but you’ll know it when you feel it.” She smiles down at him again and he smiles back. “My connection came when I met your father. It’s how I knew he was the one.”

“I think I’ve heard this one before.”

She squeezes his hand. “No, not like this.” And it’s almost sad the way she says it, so he squeezes back. “When you came, when I got pregnant with you, it was… it was like my connection was amplified. I felt energy where I’d never felt it before, and it was like relearning everything over again. The things I could do and the things I couldn’t. I came out here one night, just the wind and the earth and the trees and me. And I stood bare beneath the moon. I felt everything. Everything. That was more than energy. That was power.” She sets her hand against his chest and holds it above his heart. “And it’s all in here.”

She kisses his forehead and then turns to look into the trees. “When you were born, you took that connection and made it your own, to grow and nurture until you were ready for it. All that energy and power is still inside you. Waiting.”

* 

He doesn’t drive there, simply heads out the back door and walks until he knows where he’s going. He doesn’t remember going this way, doesn’t remember much other than his mother standing in front of him and smiling, but there’s a pull there, in his heart, and so he follows it.

The trees are bigger now, weeds and grasses grown higher, but he doesn’t care. His shoes are the first to go, then socks, then everything else, and it’s probably a stupid move that he’ll kick himself for in the morning. He finds that spot, the one he remembers her standing in, and puts his feet where she had hers once, so long ago. He leans his head back and looks into the moon, full and bright above him. The wind picks up and slides through his fingers.

Stiles takes a deep breath.

He close his eyes.

*

“My mother told me this when I was younger, like I’m telling you. She warned me against having children, told me they could take my energy. I took that chance and I made you. And I will never, ever regret that decision. Do you hear me?”

He stares at her, not quite sure what she’s saying, but he nods regardless.

She takes his face in her hands and presses their foreheads together. “Do not blame yourself for whatever happens to me. Never blame yourself. You’ve been given this gift for a reason, I know that, and if I could, I would give you every last bit of me to ensure that you are safe. But I can’t.”

She looks around again, at the trees and the grass and at her toes in the earth and gives him a sad smile. “This place… There will always be a part of me here.”

*

He can feel her in the earth. He can feel everything. Grass tickles the back of his knees, a snake curls around his ankle, a squirrel scampers across a branch to his right. In the distance there is a howl and the pounding of feet against the ground and there is blood in the air and ash and the memory of fire. An anthill crumbles to his left.

He stands there long enough that dew begins to form on his hands, his neck, his cheeks. There is lightning in his spine and wind in his arms and power in his body that catches in his lungs.

Just before he opens his eyes, he feels his mother’s kiss against his forehead.


End file.
